Scream for Him
by noendnogoodbyes
Summary: Berlin is determined to make Red feel the same anguish he feels constantly over the loss of his daughter. So, naturally, he gets the one thing Red has a soft spot and weakness for, and uses her to his advantage. Can Red find Liz before its too late? [Red/Liz]


**Scream for Him**

Blinding.

When Elizabeth woke, the white halogen lamp hanging directly above her on the decrepit and moldy ceiling was blinding. Black dots filled her vision and as she tried to move to get away from the harsh light, she realized she couldn't.

She could not move at all.

Her legs and shoulders felt stiff from sitting upright in an uncomfortable position on an old, tattered chair with thin cushioning and when she tried to move her arms, she slowly realized she was handcuffed to the chair. They were probably even her own handcuffs, her standard FBI ones. The cuffs were so tight on her that her wrists felt sore, and no matter how many times she tugged and pulled, they would not come loose.

She didn't have the slightest idea how she had come to be stuck in this incredibly helpless situation, but it bared a striking resemblance to her entrapment and torture at the hands of the Stewmaker, justifiably making her tense and uneasy.

She made one last and final attempt to slip her wrists out of the cuffs. It was no good. She had no chance of escaping this, not any at all.

She grimaced and tried to inspect her surroundings while trying to make herself remain calm. Nothing about the room was familiar to her. It was a depressing box of a room, with hardly any furniture but the chair she was in and the walls were made out of what appeared like hard, unyielding cement. There were cracks here and there-not forming any interesting patterns or shapes to effectively present her enough of a distraction to keep her mind off her current predicament- and she felt her heart race.

She felt claustrophobic. This was like being in hell.

A couple of minutes passed by. She wasn't sure the exact amount of time, but after what felt like a very long time of sitting cuffed to the chair, movement finally came from behind her. A door creaked open behind her, and a pair of footsteps announced someone entering the room where she was being held in. Her heart beat rapidly against her chest as she heard the door close gently and she turned her head slightly, listening carefully with her ears to hopefully buy herself some time to understand what this unknown persons intentions were.

She heard the footsteps stop from behind her in the chair and then she felt something lightly brush against the back of her hair. A hand? Elizabeth swallowed dryly and she stiffened when the footsteps began again. The person was moving around her, as if he was a shark circling his prey and scenting out her fear.

"Hello Elizabeth Keen."

Her heart skipped a beat as the person in the room finally spoke and she closed her eyes tightly.

She could not recognize the voice, but she knew it was from a man. He had a peculiar way of speaking, an... accent. Russian, maybe? German? She couldn't be completely sure. The man's voice was raspy and coarse, and entirely unpleasant sounding; No doubt what his intentions most likely were for her.

Opening her eyes, she lifted her gaze to meet her captor.

He was not anyone she recognized, but when she met his eyes, she felt an ice-cold fear in her gut. He was staring down at her; His salt and pepper hair combed back, his lip curled in menace.

She told herself not to flinch when he bent down so that they were eye-level with one another. Then he brought a hand up and stroked under her chin with dry, cracked fingertips.

"You cannot believe how long I have waited, and waited, for this," the man said, his accent seeming more and more pronounced with the coldness of his voice. His grey eyes, which were just as ice-cold as his voice, ran down her face slowly. "You don't look very special, do you?" Elizabeth wasn't sure whether he was asking her the question or whether he was musing to himself out loud. "What makes you so special, more than the other one?" He made an amused grunting noise as his fingers roamed around the curve of her jaw, down the column of her throat, and despite all her hard effort to show no fear, Elizabeth winced and jerked her head away at his touch. "He is so obsessed with you. Passion must truly be blinding."

She finally found her voice, though it was pitifully unsteady and weak. "Why are you doing this?" she demanded quietly. "Who are you?"

The man grunted again, this time raising his other hand to touch her. Elizabeth felt her heart drop down in her chest when she realized the man had no hand on his other arm. Instead of a hand, in its place, was a hook. She clenched her teeth tight and trembled when he used the narrow edge of the hook to painfully caress her cheekbone.

"Why don't you ask the man responsible for all of this? After all, it is him you have to thank for this."

Elizabeth forced herself to meet his eyes, trying to look fierce and unafraid of him. "I am," she said, as steadily as she could. "Tell me why you're doing this."

"You want to know why I'm doing this? As if you don't already know?"

Keep him distracted and talking. This was Elizabeth's current plan. But that was as far as it went; She could not do much with her hands cuffed securely to the chair. Her mouth wasn't gagged, so at least she could use her voice and keep the man busy talking to her before he decided to hurt her. She could use her negotiating skills to get herself out of this.

She stared into his eyes pleadingly, the corners of them blurring with unshed tears. "Why?"

"You know, once word gets out about this, no one will suspect a thing- no one _but him_," the man said brightly. "With women, it is always so easy. Women disappear all the time. Especially from Russia." He paused for a moment, dragging his tongue over his lips. "Nobody misses them... _unless_ they are like wives or daughters."

Elizabeth blinked slowly, trying to process his words and make sense of them.

"You see, something very, very precious was taken from me, so I tried to take something in return," the man went on. "As it turned out, she wasn't the one that was truly precious, after all. No, there was someone else. Someone else that can be used to truly make him pay. You know who that is that I am hinting to, no?"

He made certain Elizabeth knew it was her, when he used his actual hand this time. His fingers wound around her throat roughly, not pinching down to choke her, but to make her look at nothing else but him.

"You and I, Elizabeth Keen," he whispered, almost tenderly, a sickening contrast to his actions, "We are going to make him pay. But first..." Letting her throat go, he stepped backwards slowly, eyes still on her contemplatively, "First, we must send him a little message."

His one hand fumbled around in his trouser pocket and he drew out her cell phone; Something he must have removed from her earlier when abducting her so she didn't think of calling for help. He flipped her phone open and tongued his teeth as he clicked a button. It was then Elizabeth heard the dial tone go through all the way from where she was cuffed on the chair.

The phone made a noise as the person answered, but since her cell was not on speaker, she couldn't hear the voice properly. She watched the man as he knelt to place the phone on the floor, still open and connected to someone on the other line. Then as the man got to his feet, he flexed the fingers on his one good hand and advanced on Elizabeth quickly.

"Let him hear you scream for him, Elizabeth Keen," the man goaded her on loudly. "Let him hear your cries so he knows he is the reason why this is happening to you! He is the only one to blame!"

Scream for the person, she did, when in the next moment the man leaned down to press a disgusting, wet kiss to her lips and then just as quickly reared back on his heels to backhand her.


End file.
